Page 7 of Hot for the Hockey Player
Because Maverick was big.Huge.The man—because he absolutely was a man now—was pure muscle, and holy hell, did he smell good.And it was impossible not to inhale.
He held me tight, and I had to resist the urge not to melt into him.
Physical touch wasn’t my thing, but I felt compelled to offer a hug to a man I hosted in my home for three years.And surprisingly, I didn’t hate the feeling of his arms around me.
Uh-oh.
“I-I’m good.W-what are you doing here?”Why was I stuttering?
He released me and stepped back, then carefully bent down and picked up my parmesan, handing it to me.“I’m actually here for rehab.”
I had a terrible poker face.
“Notthatkind of rehab,” he said quickly.“On my back.After … after an injury.There’s a physiotherapist here that my doctor recommended, and they were able to get me in.So I’m here for a couple of months.”
“Really?I … we were there.At the game when you played the Riptides.We saw Barbier body check you from behind.Was it that bad?”
He lifted one shoulder casually.“Crushed my L3 and L4.Needed some minor spinal surgery where they injected bone cement into my back.It’s better, but I still have a long road of PT ahead of me.”
Holy crap.A spinal injury was terrifying.
“Concussion too,” he added.“But that’s mostly cleared up.It’s been a few weeks now.I can drive again, watch screens in moderation.It was a solid three weeks of no driving, no screens, and no bright lights though.Thought I was going to lose my mind.”
“You’ve been here three weeks?”
“No, no.”He shook his head.“I just got here today.I had to wait until they could get me in here at the clinic, and do some tests and stuff on the mainland.”A rush of color filled his cheeks.“How are the kids?I wasn’t sure if that actually was you in the stands, or if I was so concussed I was seeing things.”He chuckled awkwardly and scratched at the back of his neck.“But I guess it was.The kids are so big now.”
“Yeah, Damon is fourteen and Laurel is eleven.What’s it been since you lived with us?Eight years?”
He nodded.“Yeah.I moved in with you when I was fifteen and left when I was eighteen.I’m twenty-six now.”
Twenty-six!
I definitely should not besmellingorchecking outa twenty-six-year-old.
“I’d love to see the kids if … if you think that would be okay?”he asked, a shy crook to his mouth.“Do you think they remember me?”
“Oh, Damon definitely does.Laurel, not so much.But Damon follows hockey.”
That brought out another one of his enormous, toothy grins that caused an involuntary shudder to whip through me.Or maybe it was that we were standing in the refrigerator section.That had to be it.
“You should come by and see them.It’d make Damon’s day.”
“I will.Thanks.”
“You should come for dinner tonight,” I blurted out.“Tonight.”Why did I saytonighttwice?Just to drive home how incredibly awkward and weird I was?Apparently.Also, my brain and mouth were no longer communicating.I always thought before I spoke, except now.Why now?
“Uh, sure.That’d be great.Thanks.”
“We’re at Westhaven Winery.Main house, top floor.Come by in like an hour?”
Like the sun was shining directly on him and rainbows were in the background, while nymphs and unicorns played backgammon or something, he lit up the entire cheese section.“Perfect.I guess bringing wine is a dumb idea though, huh?If you live at a winery?”
“Just bring yourself.”I needed to remove myself from his orbit and get some air.My face was on fire.Was I having my first hot flash?Was I starting menopause at forty-one?I gripped my brick of parmesan like it was a buoy in a tumultuous sea and headed toward the checkout.“See you in an hour or so?”
Even his wave was sexy.“See you in an hour … or so.”Then he shot me a wink, and I nearly walked into a barbecue sauce display at the end of the aisle.
“I can’t find anything about how Maverick’s doing,” Damon grumbled from the couch, his voice doing a hormonal squeak at the end.His finger flew across the screen of his phone.“They said he was taken to the hospital, that his injuries are severe but not life-threatening.What does that mean?Did he break his back?Will he ever play hockey again?Will he everwalkagain?”
